Kiana's breath steamed in the frigid air as she swung the splintered length of wood in her hands. The makeshift club was already sticky with black-violet ichor, the reek of it burning in her nostrils, but she didn't dare loosen her grip.
Another Honkai-corrupted zombie stumbled toward her—its gait broken, its face twisted with jagged purple veins glowing under its skin. She stepped in, bringing the club down with every ounce of force she had. Bone cracked, the thing dropped, and she yanked her weapon free before darting toward the next scream.
She wasn't Chris—she couldn't bulldoze through the beasts—but she could keep moving, keep swinging, and save who she could.
A mother shielding her child against a crumbling wall—gone in a flash as Kiana smashed the skull of the zombie lunging for them.
A shopkeeper dragged from behind his counter—saved by a quick, brutal swing to the temple.
Every time she turned, there was someone else in danger. Every time she moved, the snow under her boots grew darker with blood.
Her lungs burned, but she didn't stop.
Then she froze.
Up ahead, in the corner of a half-collapsed alley, was the little boy she'd had a snowball fight with just the day before. His coat was torn, his cheeks streaked with tears as he pressed his back against the wall.
And in front of him—blocking his only escape—were two figures.
His parents.
Or… they had been. Now, their eyes glowed with the same sickly violet light, their mouths twisted into jagged, inhuman snarls. The boy was shaking so hard she thought his knees might give out.
"No…" Kiana's voice caught in her throat. She took a step forward. "No, no, no—!"
She ran, club raised—only for something heavy to slam into her from the side, knocking her to the ground. Her weapon clattered across the street as she was pinned by another zombie, its hands clawing at her shoulders.
Her vision swam—panic setting in. She tried to shove it off, but its weight was crushing her ribs, its breath hot and rancid on her face.
Then—
BANG.
The zombie's head snapped back, a spray of purple mist bursting from its skull. The corpse collapsed, revealing the familiar face of the tall, scarred man she'd first met when they tried to kidnap her weeks ago.
Except now, he wasn't an enemy—he was holding a smoking pistol, standing between the boy and his parents. With two clean shots, he dropped them both before they could even touch their son.
The boy ran to him, sobbing, and the scarred man scooped him up without hesitation. Over his shoulder, he caught Kiana's wide-eyed stare—and flashed her a quick thumbs-up.
She exhaled a shaky laugh, relief flooding her chest despite the chaos. Maybe people can surprise you…
Movement caught her eye again. Across the street, through the swirling snow, she could see the guards fighting shoulder-to-shoulder with people she never thought she'd see on the same side—former criminals, strangers, and the same gang she'd once feared.
The line was thin, but they held it—blades, guns, and improvised weapons clashing with Honkai beasts and shambling zombies. Every now and then, a burst of violet light lit up the street where one of the more dangerous creatures went down.
Her moment of relief shattered as the ground shook behind her. The zombie that had tackled her earlier—still moving despite half its head being gone—lunged again. She barely had time to turn before it—
BOOM.
It didn't fall—it exploded, showering her in foul black ichor. She blinked through the mess just in time to see Otto lowering a strange rifle, its barrel glowing faintly with golden runes.
"Don't just stand there." His voice was cold, clipped—like he wasn't even winded despite the chaos.
Kiana blinked, still catching her breath. "I—I wasn't—"
"Move," Otto snapped, already stepping past her to fire again. A streak of golden light ripped through the street, tearing into a Honkai beast that had been mauling one of the guards.
Despite the arrogance in his voice, she couldn't deny it—Otto was good. Too good. Every shot was deliberate, every movement calculated. He wove between the defenders like he'd choreographed this battle himself, never wasting a second.
Kiana scrambled to grab her club and followed him, smashing down another zombie that tried to flank them. Otto didn't even glance back, but she swore she saw the corner of his mouth twitch upward in approval.
It wasn't like with Chris—raw power, overwhelming force. Otto's strength was control, precision. But here and now, that was exactly what they needed.
The snow crunched under Kiana's boots as she pushed forward, Otto's long strides just ahead of her. Every few meters, something lunged from the shadows—zombies with jerking, unnatural movements, or beasts with too many teeth and eyes that glowed like dying stars.
"Step in before you swing," Otto called over his shoulder, his tone brisk but not cruel. He fired a round into a lunging creature's skull, the golden projectile burning straight through. "If you lean away from your strike, you're wasting strength."
Kiana gritted her teeth, tightening her grip on the club. The next zombie that rushed her got a swing so hard it cracked through bone and sent the body sprawling. Otto gave the faintest nod before snapping his rifle up and dropping a Honkai beast mid-pounce.
They moved like that—his gunfire clearing the path, her club smashing anything that got too close. Every so often, he'd mutter something between shots:
"Watch your flank."
"Shift your stance—wider base."
"You're aiming too high; center of mass is safer."
She wanted to be annoyed, but… he wasn't wrong. With each adjustment, her swings grew sharper, her movements more precise. The rhythm of their fighting began to match—his precision balancing her raw instinct.
As they turned down a narrower street, Kiana asked, panting, "Have you… found the Herrscher yet?"
Otto's head twitched slightly at the word, though his aim never wavered. A thin smile played on his lips, but there was no humor in it. "Interesting question."
She opened her mouth, but he cut her off with a shake of his head. "No matter. The answer is no. Perhaps we're lucky this eruption lacks one. A pure outbreak is easier to contain."
They passed the charred remains of a bakery, the smell of smoke and rot clinging to the cold air. The deeper they went, the worse the destruction became—walls caved in, snow trampled into slush streaked with red and violet.
Otto reloaded in a single smooth motion, scanning the street. "Only one district remains unchecked…"
He stopped mid-step.
Kiana slowed too, glancing at him. His expression had shifted—not the sharp focus she was used to, but something rawer. His eyes widened, his jaw tightening.
"The church."
He turned sharply toward the towering spire visible above the rooftops. A heartbeat later, the world seemed to hold its breath—
—before a deafening BOOM split the air.
The explosion tore through the upper half of the church, hurling chunks of stone and wood into the air. A shockwave rippled down the street, sending Kiana stumbling back. Snow and ash rained down together, a grim, silent snowfall over the chaos.
Otto's eyes locked on the smoking ruin, horror bleeding into his voice in a way Kiana had never heard before.
"KALLEN!"